


Murder Husbands and Divine Interventions

by Mrs_Too_Many_Breeches_Rutherford



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alcohol "Abuse", Cannibalism, Canon Divergence, Crowley Being an Asshole, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hallucinations, M/M, Multi, Murder Family, Murder Husbands, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Violence, Will Graham Has Encephalitis, especially hannigram, graphic descriptions of severe burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 11:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12167985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Too_Many_Breeches_Rutherford/pseuds/Mrs_Too_Many_Breeches_Rutherford
Summary: Will and Hannibal work on a series of cases while some divine beings watch for entertainment, mild chaos ensues. Crowley and Aziraphale will make themselves known, promise!





	Murder Husbands and Divine Interventions

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written, so I hope you enjoy!

The Brunette, one special agent Will Graham, watched in the twitchy sort of way he did as they lowered the body from the high rafter of the barn, gently, like one may take down fragile decorations after a holiday has passed. He seemed to float, almost gracefully to the ground, looking for all the world like the angel he’d tried to make himself. He rubbed a clammy hand over his equally sweaty brow, eyes trying and failing to stray from the masterpiece that landed before him. He was so enraptured by the sight, he nearly didn’t feel Hannibal’s piercing eyes on his back. He was not given clearance for most cases or the crimes of those cases, but that never seemed to stop Hannibal from appearing, and no one ever seemed to stop him from entering either.  
They stood in silence for an almost uncomfortable amount of time before Hannibal spoke, naturally he would be the one to break the tension. He was always the one with something to say when most would choose a respectful silence.  
“There’s something to be said for the choices this man made on the way to his own becoming.” Hannibal seemed to muse aloud, rather than actually speaking to the man who stood beside him.  
“He killed three people and made them into his guardians. There’s nothing...poetic about it.” Will pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, searching his pockets for his bottle of aspirin with the other.  
“I think it’s rather poetic...”Said a voice from seemingly nowhere. Of course, neither of the men observing the scene could hear or even see the figure who’d spoken. This was far more interesting than what he’d been previously doing with his Tuesday evenings. Why watch unrealistic cop shows on television when he could watch the real deal whenever he wished? How could something directed by someone who’d never committed a murder compare to watching a real one being committed and then solved? Plus, it sealed the deal for their soul all on its own. He didn’t have to lift a finger to push it along.  
“And just what are you doing now?”The Angel appeared as he did, invisible to those they were watching (though he was ruining Crowley’s new favorite show, and that just wouldn’t do, he was invested now).  
“Ssshhhhhhuuuuush!” Crowley waved at him excitedly, still rudely eavesdropping on the humans having the conversation closest to the remains. “ ‘m watching this!”  
The Angel raised his brows at the tone and turned to watch the scene, interest slightly piqued now, though the graphic depiction of an “Angel” was hard to stomach at first. “And this is….?”  
Crowley didn’t answer at first, too caught up in what the strangely mismatched men were talking about. “My new favorite show.”  
Aziraphale pursed his lips, turning his attention from his more wicked half back to the conversation before them, watching the two interact intently.  
“Come now Hannibal, stop romanticizing his murders, they were tragic, as is his own death.” Will pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, watching them zip the body bag around the corpse of The Angel Maker, whose lifeless eyes peered at Will, seeming to beg for clarity. Will looked away quickly, avoiding all eyes after that, including Hannibal’s.  
Hannibal paused, taking in the guarded nature of Will’s voice and mannerisms, eyes studying him carefully before returning to the bag, which was hoisted into a van. The doors closed before Will could imagine the body sitting up.  
He shook his head, shoving the thought away quickly before looking back to Hannibal. “I’m going to uh...head back now, before this gets the best of me.” He turned and briskly walked to his car, avoiding Jack thoroughly, not wanting to talk about this killer’s design right now, not sure if he could.  
“No no no, what are you doing come back!.” Crowley sighed, he knew he could very easily make this man do as he asked, but that would take the fun out of it, the realism of it all.  
“Well, looks like you’ll just have to wait for the next ‘episode’.” Aziraphale smiled pleasantly, glad that the interaction had been cut short.  
Crowley got a look on his face, a worrying one at that, one that spoke volumes about his mind and exactly what it was capable of. “Do I?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, this is my first fic! Comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated!


End file.
